Someday
by tii-chan17
Summary: Shion knew they'd meet again someday. What he didn't know was whether he'd be alive still by the time that day came. And he didn't know why Nezumi left, either. Not really. But he definitely had left. Yep, definitely...right?


**A/N: Yeah, so, this came to me ages ago, and I didn't get to writing it until...now. Obviously. I'm exhausted, so it may not be that great, but this is my first No. 6 fic, so be nice, please!**

**I'm thinking of writing another oneshot kind of like this (meaning NezuShi) soon, but I have exams (STILL!) so it may be a while. Keep an eye out, though, if you're interested! XD  
**

**This title comes from when Shion says, "We'll meet again, someday." Yeah, I couldn't think of a better one.  
**

**Disclaimer: I do not own No. 6. Sad days, I know.**

* * *

Someday

Shion walked through his front door and dropped his briefcase on the kitchen table. It had been another long day at work, trying to make plans for what would happen to No. 6 now the Wall was destroyed.

Thankfully, though, Sunday was still a day of rest for the public, and it was Saturday.

Thank the Lord.

Shion wouldn't say that he disliked his work, per se, but it was certainly very taxing. And after working almost non-stop for two years, since he had returned from the West Block, he was really taxed.

Sighing, he flopped down onto his sofa, relishing the relief of strain being taken off his feet. He was happy to help No. 6 rebuild itself, really he was, but had no one here ever heard of a holiday? He was thinking of requesting some time off.

Then again, free time wasn't such a brilliant idea either. It always caused his thoughts to meander back to a cosy underground hovel filled with mice and stew and the blank verse of Shakespeare. And silver eyes, and indigo hair and a rich voice always so quick to poke fun and tease.

Shion shook himself out of his reverie, both physically and mentally. Thinking of Nezumi too much never ended well, even though he was almost completely swamped in work.

It wasn't that he wasn't coping with his 'loss', as such, but it always left an empty feeling in his chest, an aching hurt that wouldn't go away. Yes, it was true: he missed Nezumi more than he'd miss his own head. But that wasn't going to make him come back.

Mentally slapping himself, Shion forced himself to get up and head to his bedroom. He was tired and needed to rest, before he was kept up all night hugging the pillow that only smelt of himself and loneliness.

He undressed without hurry, stepping into the shower for a few minutes to let the hot water coax away the leftover tension in his muscles.

Finally burrowing away under the covers, it wasn't long until Shion fell into a deep sleep, lulled into unconsciousness by his incomprehensible tornado of screaming thoughts.

* * *

_He was lying in the Twilight House, which didn't seem at all odd, despite the fact that he had abolished it at the very start of his career._

_He was in a stretcher, being wheeled through countless doorways by blank-faced nurses surrounding him._

_Shion lifted a hand, surprised at the amount of effort it took, and how draining the simple action was to him. It was wrinkled and papery, withering away on his very bones._

_He was old, very old. He was going to die now._

_The thought didn't scare him, or worry him in the slightest. In fact, it was almost a relief to finally have rest after such a long, hard life. He could be sure No. 6 wouldn't turn corrupt again, he'd done enough work to be certain of that, at least._

_But there was something else, something big that he had to do before he left this world. Something so important…_

_But it was too late now, anyway._

_The motion of the stretcher stopped and he realised he was in a cream room, full of light and sterility. A nurse approached him with a gas mask, one that would make sure he slipped into another world and didn't wake up again._

_And suddenly he remembered. He remembered that most important thing he had to do, at all costs._

"_Wait," he tried to stop the nurse, but she kept on advancing, a faceless mask of stoicism on her face. "Wait!"_

_He had to see Nezumi one more time, just once._

_As the nurse secured the mask over his nose and mouth, Shion's last thought was, _Nezumi never came back to me.

* * *

Shion wrenched himself awake with a hoarse cry, rearing up from the mattress into a sitting position.

He dragged in harsh, desperate breaths, clutching his chest as if to hold himself together.

It was okay, it was only a dream.

But Nezumi wasn't here, either.

Shion blinked furiously, fighting away the tears threatening to spill down his cheeks. He wouldn't cry; Nezumi had told him to save his tears for himself.

He wasn't going to cry.

* * *

The next morning, Shion was seen hurrying through the unobstructed gateway between No. 6 and the former West Block.

He didn't know why he was going there himself, not really, but all he felt was this deep longing to see the underground hideaway he had once so readily called home, a longing so potent it prevented him from sleeping for the rest of the night before.

Finally, he saw the battered playground the marked the secret hideout, the rusty swings and the broken slide.

He hurried down the steps, taking them two at a time. He couldn't back out now.

Trying the door that led to the old living area, Shion found it unlocked. Which wasn't really surprising, seeing as it had never had either a lock or a key.

The door was flung open easily, and Shion rushed inside.

Nothing had changed.

Everything looked exactly as it had when they'd left it – bed unmade and books everywhere. The only difference was that, this time, it was uninhabited.

Finally faced with the undeniable truth, Shion's knees gave out from under him and he crumpled to the floor, racked with sobs.

Nezumi was gone.

And he wasn't coming back.

He didn't know how long he sat there, crying. Minutes, hours, seconds – he wasn't sure.

All he was aware of was his choking sorrow, which was probably the reason he failed to hear the sound of footsteps approaching, and the door opening.

However, he couldn't possibly miss the surprised exclamation that came after. "Shion?"

The white-haired boy whipped around, tears still streaming from his eyes.

They dripped to the floor, forgotten, as he stared in shock. "N-Nezumi…?"

And indeed it was. Nezumi stared back at him with amazed silver eyes, high ponytail sitting on his head, just how Shion remembered it. He hadn't changed at all.

"Nezumi!" he cried again, tears of grief immediately replaced with ones of ecstasy, "What are you doing here?"

It only took Nezumi's momentary look of confusion for it all to snap into place.

The underground home looked exactly as it had two years ago. Unwashed dishes, tatty sofa and all.

And lacking the blanket of dust that always came with two years of desertion.

"You…you never left, did you?" Shion asked, his voice sticking horribly in his throat, which was contracting as if to suffocate him.

"Shion, I—"

"You _never left_! You stayed here, in this place, _all this time_! But you _abandoned _me!" Tears of ecstasy gone. Probably forever.

Shion felt betrayed. He felt hurt and deceived that Nezumi had been here, so close, for so long, but had never even bothered to tell him as such. He never returned to Shion. He probably never even wanted Shion around.

"Nezumi…why didn't you come back to me?" was all Shion could manage to whisper.

Nezumi shrugged, unruffled façade infuriatingly back in place. "You know me: things to do, places to go..."

"You _never left_!" Shion near-screeched.

"Yes, you'd already made that clear, thank you," Nezumi replied coldly.

"How could you just leave me alone like that? I thought you were never coming back! I had a dream that I was old and dying, and _you never came back_!" The tears were streaming down his face again. It felt as if they would never cease.

"Well, you never exactly came to visit me, either," Nezumi pointed out.

Shion gaped in disbelief. "I thought you'd gone far away somewhere where I could never reach you. I thought you'd come back for me when you returned. Looks like I was wrong. Completely."

"Yeah," Nezumi agreed insensitively, "I never said any such thing. I never gave you any reason to take it for granted that I'd always trail back to you with my tail between my legs, like one of those bloody dogs of Inukashi's!"

Shion froze, his tears freezing with him. "…I see," he said blankly.

There was a long silence.

Finally, Shion forced himself to lift his foot and put it in front of him. Repeat with other foot. Left, right, left, right.

He repeated the process all the way to his small house, numb all the while.

However, as soon as he had climbed upstairs to his bedroom, and seen his bed that was still unmade from his hurry to get out of it that morning, the numbness cracked, and he collapsed on his mattress, the tears reappearing for the umpteenth time.

This time, though, they were muted intakes of breath, the silent crying only the bereaved and severely depressed indulged in.

The lack of noise allowed Shion to heard a soft noise on the other side of the room.

He turned his head to see the window open, and Nezumi climbing through.

"What are you even doing here? You obviously don't want me, so—" Nezumi placed a finger on his lips, halting Shion's own.

When he'd dropped soundlessly onto the carpet of Shion's room, Nezumi straightened up and walked over to where the broken boy lay, the tears still flowing slowly, even now.

The dark-haired boy (man?) looked at him solemnly for a few moments, then bent down unhurriedly, pressing a gentle kiss to the other's lips.

Shion's eyes followed Nezumi's as the latter leant back again. He sat up, confusion shining through the waning sorrow in his face.

"Nezumi?" he asked hesitantly, "What kind of kiss was that?"

"An 'I'm sorry' kiss," came the simple reply.

Shion reached up and pulled the other down again to meet his lips for the second time in a very long while.

"I forgive you," he whispered into Nezumi's mouth, holding on with all his strength.

Nezumi chuckled humourlessly. "Not that I deserve it. I was a complete bastard, hurting you like that, in so many different ways."

Shion shook his head. "I was selfish, thinking that you'd come back to me. I realise now that you want your space and—"

"Shut up for a second, okay?" Nezumi sat down next to the white-haired boy, breaking his hold. "I didn't leave you because I didn't want you, or because I thought you were annoying. I thought it would be good for you for me to leave. I was kind of your imaginary friend form your childhood; one that you had to let go as you grew up."

Shion snorted despite himself. "Yeah, an imaginary friend that saved my life on numerous occasions."

"You know what I mean. So I'm sorry. I should have told you I wasn't going far. I should have left the choice to you," Nezumi apologised, for once not making it humorous with dramatic quotations from Shakespeare.

"It was your choice too," Shion pointed out.

"Not really," Nezumi shook his head.

"Did you want to go?"

"Never."

Shion was quiet after that, resulting in Nezumi looking at him anxiously.

"Shion? Are yo—"

Shion's lips were suddenly on his again, hard. Nezumi gasped audibly, but reciprocated eagerly, if slightly belatedly due to his shock.

After a mere two seconds, Shion drew back, cheeks flushed, and smile finally back in place after over two years. "Can you guess what type of kiss that was, Nezumi?" he asked playfully.

Nezumi was stunned at his sudden mood swing. Not that he was protesting. "Not a clue. Do I have to play a forfeit?"

"No."

"So what was it?"

"An 'I love you' kiss."

Nezumi stared at him blankly.

In the drawn-out moments that followed, Shion's smile faded, only to be replaced with a faux laugh and a watery grin. "Haha, fooled you. You should have seen your face, Nezumi, I…" he broke off, his voice cracking.

All of a sudden, Nezumi sprang into life, grabbing Shion by the shoulders and tackling his mouth feverishly.

They grappled with one another for what seemed like an aeon, tongues twining and teeth scraping in an inexperienced barrage of lust.

If Shion had been alert to any thoughts other than those on the taste of Nezumi's passion, he would have felt smug that Nezumi wasn't as accomplished in the subject of sex etc as he claimed to be.

Finally, when the two broke apart, Nezumi leaned his forehead against his long-missed friend's and murmured, "I'm never leaving you again."

* * *

**A/N: Yeah, seems kinda rushed, now I read it again. Oh well, I'm tired. Sports Day tomorrow BLARRRGG!**

**Please review! I'd like to hear your feedback, and it's always nice to know people are reading this. I'm going to go to sleep now.**

**See ya!**

**~tii-chan17**


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